Simmer Down, Conan
by LemonyShepard
Summary: It's been three years and Jimmy is still shrunk. As Rachel begins to move on, the reapperence of the men in black tempts Conan to tell her the truth. But will he tell her in time or will Rachel never see Jimmy's face again? CANCELLED.
1. Typical Days for Conan

**Yet another fanfic I'm writing while waiting to finish my "masterpiece" _Octavius vs. Grievous_. It's gonna get pretty crazy so...yeah. This beginning is kinda confusing, but try to think like a detective and figure it out. **

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Conan Edigowa was sitting on a sofa in the middle of a hotel room. His arms were crossed and his mind was racing. On the floor next to him was a chalk outline of a young man and a small pool of blood. Detective Richard Moore was talking to a larger man who was dressed in a tan trenchcoat and carried a notepad.

"Now, Inspecter, it's quite obvious that Mr. Yamagitchi was killed my the janitor, Mr. Felstien." The janitor trembled with fear as his eyes widened.

"How could you say that?" he cried out. "I wasn't even on this floor when I heard the scream! I swear it!"

Richard grinned as he always did when he thought he solved the case. "A likely story, Felstien. It's quite obvious that last night, at around nine-fifteen, you walked up to his room and stabbed him in the back with the knife. You held his mouth shut until you killed him, then left a recording device in the room. As you left, you pressed a button, causing the recording device to go off. Since you recorded yourself screaming, it appeared as if Mr. Yamagitchi was screaming. When you ran to 'see what was going on', you picked up the recording device to avoid any suspision!"

Conan sighed. _'That's probably the most rediculous and idiotic explanation I've heard him say. And I've been with this guy for three years!'_ The young detective decided to take matters into his own hands, as he had to do many times before.

Conan Edigowa wasn't a normal thirteen year old. He was really twenty year old Jimmy Kudo, ace detective. Three years ago, Jimmy was looking into a case that involved blackmail and drug smuggling. Before he could get any more details, two men in black attacked him and gave him a special type of poison that was supposed to finish him off forever. The poison's effects, however, were different than the two men had hoped, and instead shrunk Jimmy down to the size of a ten year old!

In a desperate attempt to find the men in black again and get his body back to normal, he adapted the name Conan Edigowa and teamed up with the struggling (and clueless) Richard Moore. He hoped that if he followed the detective around solving crimes, he might find the men in black sooner. So far, however, he had no such luck.

Conan looked over at a small table filled with clues to the mystery. There were pictures of two more suspects, a honeymooning couple by the names of Claire and Shaun, a bloodstained knife, a map of the hotel, and a picture of the body at the crime scene. There wasn't a whole lot to go by, and if Conan wasn't any smarter he might've actually agreed with Detective Moore.

"Conan, try not to touch anything while Dad's working." said a softer voice. Conan looked around and stared into Rachel's eyes. She was another reason Conan joined up with Richard. Rachel was his daughter, and Jimmy's old girlfriend. Three years ago she worried about him everyday, and it killed Conan trying to keep his real identity secret. He hated to watch her cry every night. He hated knowing that it was his dissappearence that made her break down. But he dared not say anything to her. If she, or anybody else, knew that Conan was really Jimmy, they would be at risk of the men in black who wanted him dead.

However, after three years of Jimmy Kudo gone, Rachel seemed to give up on him. Last year, Conan remembers vividly, Rachel cried extra hard one night. She was saying things like "Why did you have to die?" and "I never will see you again, will I?" Conan cried, too. His only love had given up on his life. She assumed he was dead. Now, this year, she seemed happier and was busy almost every night. This hurt Conan more than it hurt when she cried. He knew she was seeing other boys and he knew that, one day, she would get married and forget all about Jimmy Kudo. Conan continued to stare into her crystal eyes.

"Sorry, Rachel." he said, in a cracky voice. Conan was going through puberty and he felt like killing himself. He already had to go through this awkward stage once in his life. He seriously didn't want to go through with it again. But what choice did he have? He continued looking over the clues.

One thing he noticed was that the janitor's office wasn't anywhere near the victim's room. Plus, Mr. Felstien didn't look like he would have the strength to take down such a strong person as Mr. Yamagitchi.

_'No, it wasn't him...maybe...'_

Conan looked at the picture of Claire and Shaun. They looked suprisingly alike. Their eyes were thesame color, and so were their hair and skin tone. This couldn't be a coinsidence. The little detective slipped out of the room while the rest of the adults were arguing about who killed whom. He pulled the crinkly map out of his pocket and lowered his eyebrows. He was looking for the honeymooning couple's room. He needed more evidence.

Once there he pulled out his lock picking kit Professor Ogasa made for him. That man was such a generous guy, making Conan many gadgets and gizmos to help him solve more cases. Plus he was the only man, besides his parents, who knew his real idetity.

He pushed the door open and walked inside. He flipped open suitcases and pulled down bedsheets. He found nothing. He then looked under the bed and found a tattered old notebook. Inside he found pages filled to the top with poetry. As he was reading, a small photograph fell out from the notebook. Conan carefully picked it up and examined it. It was a picture of a young lady, about twenty-five years old, give or take a few. She was quite attractive, even by Conan's standards. He flipped the photo over and read the short letter on the back.

_'A love letter? I thought they were...'_

His thoughts were interupted when he saw who wrote the letter. His eyes widened as he gasped loudly.

_'I knew it!'_ he thought to himself. _'I know who the killer is!'_

He ran out of the room (careful to lock the door as he left) and back into the main lobby. People were still yelling and arguing, giving Conan the perfect opportunity to shoot Richard with a tranquilizer dart from his watch. A perfect hit, which was quite common as the years passed. Richard's eyes began to roll to the back of his head as he collapsed on a nearby couch. Conan ran behind the couch and pulled off his bowtie. After adjusting a few knobs on the back, he spoke into the hidden microphone.

"People, please, enough of this!" he cried out in Detective Moore's voice. "I know who killed Mr. Yamagitchi!"

"Alright then, Richard," Inspector Macguire said. "Who is it then?"

"Well, we can narrow out the janitor. He had no reason to kill his boss's friend and certainly didn't have the means." Mr. Felstien sighed with relief as the honeymooning couple began shifting around uneasily. Macguire looked at Richard's body closely.

"But, Richard, if it wasn't the janitor than who was it? The two lovebirds over there were out to dinner last night."

Richard's voice chuckled. "That's what they say, inspector, but what they were really doing was something much more sinister."

"What, are you saying that we killed the poor man?" Shaun burst out. "That's outragous! What do we have against him? Besides, we left the building at eight-thirty. You can even ask the manager. He saw us leave!"

"You may have left, Shaun, but you weren't gone for two and a half hours, like your alibi states. According to you, you two were at Restoraunte Favio from eight-thirty to ten. But how is that possible when that resteraunt closes at nine-fourty five?" Claire let out a small gasp.

"It's quite obvious that one of you snuck back into the hotel at around nine ten, killed the man at nine fifteen, then went out for a drive for another hour or so to make us think you were out having dinner. But you went a little too far with that, didn't you?"

Claire gasped again, eyes getting wider with every explination. Conan smiled. He knew he had the culprit now. "The murder is, in fact, YOU Claire!"

Rachel gasped in shock as Claire narrowed her eyes. "You can't prove that!"

"Oh, but I can, ma'am. You know, you and your brother had me quite fooled when I first got here, but the undying fact that your last names were the same on your luggage pretty much gave it away."

The Inspector looked at him, frusterated. "They both have the same last names because they were just married, you crazy buzzard!"

"That could be true, Inspector, but these nametags looked quite worn when I saw them. It would be very difficult to change the last name on your luggage in time for your honeymoon."

"That's still not enough proof!" Claire cried out. "Me and Shaun are happily married and we are not brother and sister!"

"Kiss him then, Claire."

The young woman looked shocked at first. "What...why?"

"The whole time you two have been here we haven't seen you kiss once. Kiss him and I might believe you."

Shaun looked at Claire, who looked back at him. Then, rather awkwardly, they met at the lips. The kiss lasted about three seconds.

"There, satisfied?" she asked.

"Yes." Conan said, proud. "Did you all see how they kissed. It was like she was kissing him for the first time. Neither of them seemed to enjoy it, but Claire least of all."

"Why do you keep picking on me?"

"I found this in your room, Claire." Conan said, tossing the photo over the couch. The young woman gasped the hardest this time as Macguire picked up the photo.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"That is the girlfriend of someone in here. She's a vital clue."

Macguire began to read the letter on the back. "A love letter? By who?" He read on and his eyes widened. "_Love, your darling Claire?" _Everyone in the room breathed in quickly as Claire's eyebrows lowered in anger and humiliation.

"But Claire...does that mean that...you're...?"

"Yeah," she cried. "I'm a lesbian! This really is my brother and I'm going to kill you for what you made me do, detective." She wiped her lips in discust.

"Her name is Angie Yamagitchi. The man I killed was her father. He didn't want to admit that his only daughter was gay, and certainly hated me for persuading her to become so. He forbidded her to ever see me again. He took away my only chance at true love! I loved her, detective, you must understand that! But this...jerk stole her from me. So I needed revenge. My brother here has a good friend who is a computer hacker, and he traced Angie's father to this hotel. When I found out where he was, I persuaded my brother to help me kill him. He did and..." She looked up with fire in her eyes. "I hate you, detective. I'll kill you for this!"

Conan couldn't help but give out a little chuckle at her feeble remark. "Cuff them both, boys. This case is closed."

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**Please excuse the crudety of this first chapter. I wrote it at my grandma's and her computer SUCKS! Next chapters will at least have spell check. Review please! And check out Octavius vs. Grievous (I just want reviews so I can end it!)**


	2. Unlucky 13

**Hola, everybody! Now, Richard may seem a little OOC at the end of this chapter, but he's really worried about his daughter and it makes sense that he would act this way. r&r please! I'm having writer's block and don't really know where to go from here.**

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"Once again, the Great Richard Moore has solved the baffling case!"

The three detectives were riding home in a taxi, and Richard was laughing insanely, as he always did when he "closed the case." Conan was leaning against the window, eyebrows lowered in frustration.

'Well you certainly got some help.' He thought to himself. It's been three years since he's been working with Richard and he thought maybe he would get used to his bragging by now. But Jimmy was just too proud of himself that he hated when Richard stole the credit.

Rachel was sitting in the middle, starring out the front window. She wasn't quite looking at anything but the windshield and the raindrops hitting down on it hard. Conan managed to notice this quite a few minutes after she started. He looked over at her father, who was sound asleep after rejoicing over his victory. He put a small thirteen-year-old hand on her leg.

"What's wrong, Rachel?"

She looked down, snapping out of her trance-like stare. She wiped her eyes and gave the boy a small smile.

"Oh, I'm fine, Conan." She said giving a slight giggle of encouragement. "I'm just thinking about things, that's all."

The boy frowned sadly. She has been acting this way for the longest time and he had no clue why. It crushed him. A possible reason, he thought, could have been because she was twenty and still living at home, following her dad around, solving mysteries. Day after day she turned in applications to stores and restaurants, but none of them ever called back.

The taxi pulled up next to the curb in front of the Moore Detective Agency. Rachel woke her father up and, after paying the taxi driver, ran into the building. Once inside, Rachel took her coat off and looked at the clock. She inhaled quickly and ran towards her room. Conan watched as she disappeared behind a corner. He lowered his head and walked over to the couch, where he crashed down.

She was going on another date. Another night drifting more and more away from Jimmy. Another night slipping into the hands of someone else. Conan hated this. He felt unwanted, depressed, and most of all, unloved. How could Rachel know this, though? She thought Jimmy had forgotten her and moved on. Now that's all she's doing. She thought it was perfectly normal and soon she would meet up with a guy who was the one for her. But she didn't know that he was right under her nose…quite literally.

"Bye, daddy." She said quickly as she kissed him on the cheek. "Where ya runnin' off to?" he asked, without taking his eyes off the TV for a moment. Rachel slipped her shoes on.

"I'm goin' out to the movies and dinnerwith Ken." She responded, as she grabbed her purse. Richard turned his head as he said, "Well, be sure to be home before…"

"Yeah, I will, dad. Bye!" And she slammed the door behind her. Richard sighed.

"Ya know, Conan, she really needs to leave someday." The boy, however, was still leaning up against the wall deep in thought.

_'No, Richard, don't say that. I can't have her leave. Not right from under me. She means the world to me…I'd die without her.'_ He shut his eyes for a moment then descended to his room, which doubled as Richard's trophy room. Each and every day Conan had to stare up at all the framed newspaper articles with the same crazy smile Richard always wore when he was asked to get his picture taken for the press. Conan hated them all. He knew it should've been him on those pictures.

_'No, not me.'_ He thought. _'Jimmy Kudo.'_ He sadly lay down on his bed. _'I'm not Jimmy Kudo anymore. I'm slowly forgetting aboutmy oldlife and becoming Conan Friggen-Edogawa more everyday, with no past and no future.' _He felt a small tear slowly fall from his eye down his cheek. This happened seemingly every night. He was a nobody.

Thunder broke his slumber as he jumped under his sheets. The storm had gotten worse. He slowly got out of bed, half-asleep, and made his way to the kitchen for a drink of water. He opened the door and noticed Richard standing next to the window, completely awake, looking out into the dark rain. Conan approached him, confused.

"What's wrong, Mr. Moore?" he asked. He managed to catch a glimpse at his eyes, which were filled with worry and fear. The young boy had never seen Richard like this before.

"It's Rachel," his voice quivered. "She hasn't come back yet. She hasn't even called."

Conan heart skipped a beat. What if something happened to her? He tried to regain his composure and help calm Richard down.

"I'm sure she's alright, Detective," he said, trying as hard as he could to sound assuring. "She's probably wrapped up with her date and forgot the time." That explanation, of course, just made Conan feel worse. Richard gave the boy a slight smile which should have cheered him up since Mr. Moore never smiled at the child.

_"In other news, the manager at a local restaurant was a witness to a sinister robbery, which resulted in a bloody kidnapping of a young girl…"_

Richard and Conan both snapped their heads up at the TV screen and gasped loudly. What if Rachel was involved and this Ken character kidnapped her.

"What could she mean by bloody kidnapping?" Richard asked himself. Conan, for one, didn't want to think about that just yet. Rachel was in possible danger and he needed to save her.

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**I'm looking back on this and realizing that this isn't my best work so far. Just deal with the confusing plots and short chapters for now. It'll get better I promise.**


	3. Murders, Hostages, and Getaways

**Here we go with responses! By the way, thanks for these. Six on the first 2 chapters is the most I've gotten so far. laughs**

**Lyn Jarewo Wors****- Thanks for the review. I will from now on spell Conan's last name correctly and Agasa's right, too. Will Miss Claire strike again? You'll have to find out won't you?**

**cutterforthecause- Thanks! And have I mentioned that you have a cool Pen Name?**

**ShadowD07- Yeah, that's what I try to picture in my head while writing. "If this was an episode, would people believe it?" I try to stay true to the show, which I'm a huge fan of.**

**Kaori-san- Well, if you were shrunk down to the size of a ten-year-old and forced to keep your identity secret while your love cried and, eventually, moved on to seeing other people, wouldn't you be depressed as well? By the way, I hope you don't mind if I used your Pen Name as the Japanese restaurant name, do you?**

**Ashley- Here's the next chapter! Sorry it took so long. I've been out of town and finishing up Octavius vs. Grievous. I'll try not to slack off anymore **

**LanH25- You never know what the future may bring, but your guess is headed in the right direction.**

**M.K. Inufan- OMG I HAVE FINISHED IT! YAY! EYES BULDGING OUT AS WELL I'VE BEEN BUSY WITH OTHER STORIES AND OUT OF TOWN BUT NOW IT'S FINISHED FOR ALL TO ENJOY! SMILES LIKE CRAZY anyways, enjoy this chapter.**

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_'Please be alright, Rachel,'_ Conan thought, worried. He couldn't bear to think of what happened to her. A bloody kidnapping! How could he have been so stupid as to leave her?

_'She had to move on…'_ he finally thought to himself. He hated himself for it. Why hadn't he found the men in black sooner? Then Jimmy and Rachel would be out having dinner somewhere, relaxing, instead of Conan dashing off to save her life. Richard summoned a taxi and they were off to the scene of the crime.

They arrived at Kaori-San restaurant within ten minutes, but to Conan it seemed like hours. He jumped out of the cab before it even stopped and ran under the crime scene tape blocking out the other passers-by. He ran up to the manager of the joint, who had tears in his eyes that dripped down on his plump belly. The police were interrogating him.

"I swear, Kaho was the greatest of my employees. She was even about to be promoted until she…she…" He sobbed. Conan knew it was dreadfully impolite to interrupt, especially when the manager was crying this way, but he needed answers.

"Did you see the face of the kidnapped girl?" he asked the man. He looked down and tried to fake a smile.

"I'm sorry, young man, but I didn't. I was in the kitchen."

Conan cursed under his breath, leaving the police and manager shocked at the little boy's foul language. Richard soon ran into the building and introduced himself.

"My name is Detective Richard Moore and I'm here to investigate this case." He said coldly. "May I ask if you got a good look at the kidnapper's face? Or the face of the kidnapped victim?"

"Well, I couldn't get a good look at the kidnapper's face because he was wearing a black hat. The black trench coat should've told me that he was a criminal in the first place." He frowned, but Conan shot his head up.

"The man was wearing a black trench coat?" he cried out. The manager nodded.

"The kidnapped girl was about…eighteen or so? She had black hair and had a very nice dress on." Richard cringed.

"Rachel…" he whispered. The police gave the detective a shocked look.

"You know the victim?" they asked. Conan looked at the crime scene. The crook seemed to have covered his tracks pretty well. Tables were tossed over carelessly and food remains would have covered up any obvious clues. Conan had to brush the tears out of his eyes as he observed the crime scene. He was worried. Very worried.

He took another look at the dead waitress. This at least gave him a reason as to why the man in black would want to kidnap Rachel. She would be a perfect hostage.

He then found the clue. The one clue that would help him and Detective Moore save Rachel: footprints. Conan smiled a tad.

_'So the kidnapper tried to cover any and all clues by making a huge mess in the dining hall.'_ He gathered his thoughts. _'But while he thought this would give him a clear get away, he accidentally stepped in a puddle of ketchup, leaving his footprints!'_

Conan didn't even bother sharing his discovery with Richard. He would probably misinterpret the clue for something incredibly off-topic and retarded, as he always did. So Conan followed the footprints from the restaurant and into the parking lot. They stopped in a parking space, meaning that the criminal got away by car. There was a blue sign in front of the parking space: Employees Only. Conan guessed that the stolen car was Kaho's, the killed employee.

He then bent down and observed the parking space. There were tire marks coming out from it. They didn't last long, of course, but from what the young detective saw, the marks went from the parking space to the parking lot exit, leaving due east. He smiled again and ran in to tell Richard.

"Mr. Moore! Mr. Moore!" he cried out. Richard gave Conan a dirty look and pounded him on his head.

"Don't bother me while I'm working, Conan!" he yelled and continued interrogating suspects. His main concern was the murdered waitress, but Conan couldn't care less about a dead employee. For the first time in a long time he was only concerned on two parts of the case: the hostage and the getaway.

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**Short and sweet, this chapter was. Longer the next one will be. Promise, I do. Respond and read, please. (Sorry but talking like Yoda is lotta fun )**


	4. What Could be Missing?

**WOW...It took me nearly forever to get this done! I've been working on other stories, school work, theatre, forensics, and all that jazz! Anyways, sorry about this crazy-late update but here it is!**

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He stopped and rested his tired legs by leaning up against the side of a building. Conan was soaked, tired, and confused as to where to go from here. He didn't even know where the car went after leaving the parking lot. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He was missing something important. He must've looked over a vital clue, something that should've told him what to do.

He thought everything over in his mind. All he knew was that a man dressed in black stabbed a waitress, kidnapped a young woman (possibly Rachel), and drove off. There must've been more to this case. Something he overlooked. It's very possible that, in the frustration and worry of finding Rachel, he missed a big clue.

He continued following the tracks made by the getaway vehicle. The roads seemed eerily bare that rainy night. Conan's worry only made him go faster. His hopes were short lived, however, for soon the tracks stopped.

"Damn," he cursed to himself. He leaned up against the side of a building and placed his fingers on his temples, thinking. What had he overlooked? He then thought back to everything at the crime scene: The body, the destroyed table, the ketchup footprints…

"What a minute, of course!" he cried. "I forgot to check out the footprints! How could I have been so stupid?"

He ran as fast as he body could carry him back to the restaurant and burst through the crowd hovering over the scene. Richard gasped as Conan shoved him out of his way and kneeled down next to the red prints.

"Conan, what--?"

The boy gasped and felt a smile grow upon his face. He recognized the footprints. They were the same boots worn by a construction worker. He now had the last piece of the puzzle. But where to place it?

The young detective thought back to all of the construction sites in the area. One was a site for which a building was about to be demolished.

_'If the kidnapper hid in there, the demolition crew would bring all of the clues down with the house. We'd never catch him!'_

He knew that that must be the place Rachel was being kept. He ran back outside and thought back to where the demolition site was.

'The other side of town…I'm gonna need to get there fast.'

Conan thought back to his skateboard back in his backpack. That was of no help now. A taxi would never pick up a child in this part of town. He would never make it to the site on time by foot. He slapped his face with his palm. How could he make it to the site in time!

"Hey, what's goin on over there?"

Conan spun around to see a young boy pulling a wagon. The boy had an umbrella in his hands. This sparked Conan's imagination as he attempted to con the boy into giving him his stuff.

"Um, little boy," he said calmly. "If you go inside the restaurant the manager will give you a free pizza. But it's a limited time offer, so you better hurry."

The boy, obviously fooled, giggled his way into the crime scene. Conan smiled to himself. Another great lie used to solve a case. He seriously should've been an actor.

Conan flew down the streets in his makeshift skateboard. It was quite difficult to maneuver the giant wagon, but at least he was making great time. After about five minutes, the tired, weary, and drenched detective was standing outside of the soon-to-be-demolished building.

Conan snuck underneath the boards blocking off the front entrance. He grinned a smile so large that he could almost feel it fall off his face. Once inside he saw the remains of the ketchup footprints.

"Perfect," he whispered to himself. "Rachel must be here some--"

He stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a muffled sort of cry. 'Rachel!' He sprinted up the dusty stairs and began to search the rooms, praying that she was okay.

He threw open the last door in the dusty, abandoned hallway and began searching. It seemed like a ladies room, with mirrors and dressers every which way. Dust, of course, covered everything…but wait.

'There's a section behind the bed where the dust has been wiped off! Someone must've been here recently!'

He ran around the side of the bed and saw a large sack, twitching and struggling, like an animal trying to get free. Conan tore at the sack, trying to get it open, trying to get his Rachel free.

The sack opened, and Conan let out a gasp of absolute horror. Sweat fell down from his brow as his mind tried to calculate what had just happened. A girl was laying there, completely alive, but…

"You're…You're not Rachel Moore!"


	5. A Torturous Clue

**Next epic chapter. Nothing special but...yeah...read and comment! And thanks to everyone who did comment last chapter. I do know who you are and I'm thanking you in my heart. I can do responses because I'm just too dog-gone tired! But, yeah, here's the next chapter:**

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Conan backed away from the helpless girl, who was still tied and gagged. He just couldn't believe what was going on. He shifted his weight as he leaned up against a dusty wall, closing his eyes to think.

'If this isn't Rachel then…where is she?'

Soon a strange jingle came from the girl's body. She started to scream something and, though it was muffled, Conan thought he heard her say "pocket." The detective rushed over to her and, as rude as it seemed at the time, forced his hands into her pockets. The girl let out a scream of disgust, but Conan ignored her. He needed to find whatever was playing that jingle. Soon his hands wrapped around a small, smooth object about the size of a river stone.

The girl's cell phone.

Conan's heart began to flutter as he realized what an amazing stroke of luck this was! He could call for help, possibly an ambulance, and definitely the police. He placed the cell phone up to his ear quickly after pressing the small "talk" button.

"Hello?" he spoke into the receiver hopefully.

"Hello Jimmy."

Conan let out another huge gasp of air. He felt his fingers, his feet, his whole body weakening. He nearly collapsed to the floor as he struggled to keep hold of the small phone.

"Who…Who is this?" he stammered. The voice on the other side let out a small chuckle.

"You must remember me, Mr. Kudo. I was the one who gave you the poison so many years ago." Conan felt his heart fluttering in so many different directions he thought he was going to vomit. "Unfortunately, the poison's effects weren't as either of us expected. But no matter. Torturing you these many years was just as fun."

"Who are you, damn it!" Conan screamed, pounding his fist on a nearby windowsill.

"Watch your language, Conan. You don't want your precious girlfriend to hear her adopted son with such a foul tongue."

'Rachel…'

"What the hell have you done with her!" Conan demanded.

"Tsk tsk tsk, detective. You wouldn't want to pass up such a great mystery now, would you? If I simply told you who I was and where Miss Moore was, then what would that make you? A cowered? A failure? You mustn't pass up a case, Mr. Kudo. You're a detective. That's your job."

"Shut up and tell me what you want from me!" Conan exclaimed. He simply couldn't take any of this any longer. He needed…demanded answers. This man had tortured him for many years. All of his friends thought he had died. Rachel had forgotten him and moved on. He's forgotten what it was like to be Jimmy Kudo. This man needed to pay dearly.

"I have arranged a sort of scavenger hunt for you, to test your detective skills. Clues are scattered throughout the city. Being the amazing detective you are, you should be able to find most of them. Each clue will lead to the next."

"Frankly, I'm not interested in your stupid treasure hunts! Just tell me where Rachel is or I'll kill you, so help me…"

"If you don't solve these puzzles I will kill Rachel Moore!"

Conan was silent. He thought about everything he made her go through. All the painful nights she stayed up, praying he was alright, when he was really under her nose the whole time. He couldn't put Rachel at risk. He would never forgive himself. He sighed helplessly.

"What's the first clue?"

The voice chuckled a bit. "I can't just tell you." Conan made a fist in frustration. "Ask that girl her name. A great detective like you should be able to piece together some sort of puzzle, leading to the first clue."

Conan looked back at the poor girl, still tied up, but no longer screaming. Now she was panting for breath, which she was nearly out of, and Conan was too stupid to let her free.

"So long, Detective Kudo."

And at that, the mysterious caller hung up. Conan cursed and forced th phone down on the windowsill. Rachel was in serious trouble, and he was too blinded by this case that he tossed her right into a trap. He sighed, and then quickly untied the bonded girl. She gasped for more air and licked her chapped lips. Around her wrists and ankles were horrible, almost bleeding marks where the ropes had been tied. Conan found himself drawn to near tears at the very sight of the poor victim.

"Are you alright?" Conan asked, even though he knew for a fact she wasn't. He couldn't find himself able to ask her name for some reason. He would feel too selfish if he did. So, instead, he called 911 to come pick her up.

"You did the right thing, son." The police chief said to him, patting him on the back. He went strait from that to the 'When to call 911' speech he always got from police officers. He decided to zone out a bit and think things over, but there wasn't a lot to think about. Rachel was kidnapped by the men in black who wanted to test his detective skills by forcing him to play a game of musical chairs…he hated the very idea.

But what choice did he really have? If Rachel was to be saved, he had to go along with their game. He needed that first clue, so he slipped away from the police chief and to a nearby doctor.

"Excuse me, sir?" he asked, pretending to be innocent. "Can you please tell me the name of the girl?"

"Oh, yes." The nurse responded cheerfully. "Her name was Edna Strider. Why do you ask?"

Conan didn't respond, but instead walked away slowly, thinking about the name. Edna Strider…Edna Strider…Where had he heard that name before?

Then it hit him. It became so clear that he slapped his forehead in pure stupidity, asking over and over how he didn't figure it out before.

"Edna Strider…E.S., which could stand for elementary school! And that elementary school must be Strider Elementary!"

Conan grinned at his newfound discovery. But…Strider Elementary…? What could it mean?

* * *

**Dun dun dun! The plot thickens! **


	6. A Clue in Excellence

**Here's the long-awaited next chapter! YAY!**

**Colormyworld: Yeah...plot thickening owns everyone's soul...**

**animearlinefreak: Um...oops. lol. I try to update as soon as possible but my life is crazy like this: &$$&(&!**

**totalconanfanatic: I like the feeling of mystery in the morning, and guess what? You don't have to wai for the next chapter because...IT'S HERE! YAY!**

**Ahh...that's always fun.**

* * *

Conan was now walking towards Strider Elementary School. His curiosity was getting the best of him, which was never good. He had taught himself to control his curiosity, but Rachel's life was at stake, and it seemed that all rules flew out the window.

It was that next morning, and the young detective was incredibly tired. He could barely walk and his nose was stuffy due to standing in the rain that previous night. None of these felt relevant at the moment, though. He had somewhat of a chance to prove himself to Rachel again.

This could be his last chance.

He remembered the day they first met. It was a day he couldn't easily forget, but over the period of a few years shrunk, he regretfully did. They were freshmen in high school, and Jimmy was trying out for the soccer team. He was doing pretty good, kicking goals left and right. It was as if nobody could stop him.

Rachel appeared on the sidelines and began to talk to some of her friends. She caught Jimmy's eye, and the young man starred at her until he got smacked in the face with the ball. Rachel gasped and ran over to comfort him. He had a bloody nose so she took him to the nurse's office.

Afterwards, they were inseparable.

Conan smiled at the memory. He missed her so much. Nobody had any idea how much. It was at that moment he decided, once he found her, he would tell her who he really was. It had been far too long to not do so.

He stopped and his blood ran cold. There was Strider Elementary. Conan ran up to the doors, which were locked.

_'Damn,'_ he thought. _'It's a Sunday.'_

He needed to find a way in so he could find the next clue. He ran around the back and starred at an open window. He smiled.

_'Right!'_ he thought. _'Sundays are the days janitors come in to clean!'_

Thanking God for this opportunity, Conan climbed up the wall (while standing on a trash can) and slipped through the window. He landed in a classroom intended for sixth graders. There was science projects all over the class and Conan smirked.

_'I remember these,'_ he thought, picking up a Dixie cup. The cup had dirt in it and a tiny seedling in that. They were testing to see how long it took a plant to grow.

Conan put the cup down and silently ran out the classroom door. This school was remarkably big for an elementary and Conan didn't know where to start looking for clues. He decided to begin in the main office.

However, the place was crawling with janitors. They may as well have been security guards, because the second one spotted the detective they would kick him out. Conan needed to be careful.

He ducked behind a large plant and then hid under a bench. Two janitors were walking past him and Conan held his breath. Thankfully they passed by without noticing him. Conan sprinted from underneath the bench and skidded to a stop once he got to the main office door.

Sweat collecting on his brow, he pulled at the doorknob. Locked. That didn't stop Conan, of course, who pulled out his hand-made lock-picking kit. He placed the tiny wire into the keyhole and the door swung open. Conan ran into the office and then silently closed the door.

He looked around. Where could the other clue be? He looked around the room to find some sort of lead when a poster caught his eye. It was above the secretary's desk. It read:

_"Opportunity is the first step to Exelence"_

Conan narrowed his eyes. 'Excellence' was spelled wrong. He pulled the poster down from the wall and looked at it carefully. Was this the next clue? Writing on the wall caught his eye. There, in black marker, was a phone number: 555-6606

Conan ran over to the secretary's desk and reached for the phone. He immediately called the number. There was silence for a while until…

"So you've found the next clue."

Conan gasped, but tried to keep his surprise hidden. This was the man in black, the one who was on the phone with him that night. Conan worked up his courage to answer the man.

"You sound surprised." He responded. There was a faint chuckle.

"I'm not." The voice said back. "I'm actually disappointed that it took you this long to find it. Hell, I even killed off two or three janitors there to help you." Conan growled quietly in frustration. Three janitors? Dead? It was his fault, he knew, but he didn't have time for self-pity.

"What's the next clue, you bastard?" Conan cried.

"Tsk tsk, if Rachel could hear you now, she'd be disappointed." Conan's face turned red with anger.

"What have you done with her!" he roared.

"Ah, ah, ah. I can't tell you now. That's against the rules of our game."

Conan could sense the man smiling on the other line and clenched his fists.

"The next clue is this: 3:45 a.m. 68A-D3D."

The man then hung up and Conan screamed at the dial-tone. "But what does that mean!" He could feel hot tears streaming down his face. Mysteries were usually frustrating, but this man was torturing him on purpose, and Conan couldn't stand it.

He decided to regain his composure and leave the school. After jumping out the window, Conan thought about the next clue.

_'Well, 3:45 a.m. is clearly a time,'_ He thought. _'And 68A-D3D sounds like a license plate. So I guess…tonight at 3:45…'_

He placed his fingers on his temple. He was going to be very tired tomorrow.

* * *

**You know, it's actually quite hard to think up new clues for evey chapter. Gimme some ideas and, who knows? I just might use 'em!**


	7. Failure

**Wow...it's been a long time, but Conan's back and still lookin' for clues! It's short, not sweet, but, let me tell you, it's a turning point in young Conan's life...**

* * *

It was 3:30 and Conan was still looking around the streets for a car with the license plate 68A-D3D. This wasn't easy. He was, after all, in Japan, and the streets were still packed with cars even this early in the morning.

Conan walked over to a red compact car. Nothing. He was getting incredibly frustrated, for every car he checked he found no matching license. He sighed and leaned up against a stop sign, arms folded. There were millions of cars in this city and any one of them could have the next clue inside. He needed to think.

_'What about the location of the clue…?'_ he thought. _'Behind a poster that had excellence misspelled. It was a poster about opportunity…'_

His head shot up as thoughts ran wild through his head. Opportunities usually lie at a collage! The collage closest to Strider Elementary was Landol Community. Well, it was farfetched but worth checking out.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, which wasn't very fast at all. He was so incredibly tired that he could barely stand upright, but with Rachel on his mind, he had no time to rest. Landol Community was one of the smallest collages in Japan and hardly anyone went there. But, maybe still, it could be a great place to hide a clue.

He saw the old, rusting sign and the tiny dorm rooms on the horizon. He also saw the rising sun. He needed to find this car before it was too late. He ran as fast as he could into the parking lot and ducked down to his knees, where he inspected every single license plate. He growled with frustration.

"Where is it!" he cried out to anyone who could hear him. He sat down and began to shed a few tears. He could hardly take this. Every second he wasted trying to solve the clues were precious moments of Rachel's life that were being wasted away. He could hardly bear to think of where she was at that very moment…was she scared? Probably. Was she safe? Doubtfully. Was she alive?

…Conan didn't want to think about that.

"Kudo!" cried out a voice, which Conan barely gave a second thought to because he wasn't used to his last name being cried out.

"Kudo, I know you're there!" cried the voice again and Conan peeked up above a car. A dark Rolls Royce waited for him in the street. Nervous, the young detective slowly walked out of the parking lot of the collage and towards the car. A dark figure was waiting, his face concealed behind the brim of a large hat.

"Who are you?" Conan asked, worry in his voice. The man lifted the brim of the hat with his thumb, revealing his face. Conan gasped, for that's all he could do.

It was the face of one of the men in black!

He pulled out a small tranquilizer gun and aimed it at Conan's neck. "I do believe that this is the car you're looking for!"

He pulled the trigger and Conan felt a horrible pain in his neck. He cried out, but no sound came out of his throat. He fell to the ground, and all turned black.

He awoke in a dimly lit room. Or was it a closet? He couldn't tell. He did notice one thing though: he was tied up and gagged. He felt like he hadn't eaten or anything in days, which was true. Conan had been locked up for three days, in fact.

_'Drugged…'_ he thought. _'By the guy in black. I was so stupid. These clues must've been a trick the whole time. Then…where's Rachel?'_

At that moment he noticed something taped to the door of the closet. He needed to wait for his eyes to adjust to see clearly what it was. It was long in shape, with a small, glimmering red thing at the end. A tear rolled down his eye as he realized what it was:

A finger. Rachel's finger.

A note was tapped behind it. It read, "You've ran out of time, detective. Join her."

Conan went into a state of mental insanity. He didn't explode into anger, nor did he die of sadness. He simply starred at the note and the finger, with the blood red nail polish, and nearly…smiled.

He then began to chuckle, which quickly turned into uncontrollable laughter. This was hilarious to him. He didn't believe that she was dead, he just thought that this was a sick joke the men in black were pulling on him. Rachel wasn't dead. Rachel wasn't dead. Rachel wasn't…

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he cried out at long last. She was dead…he couldn't bear to think it. She didn't survive. She couldn't hold on…he didn't make it.

Conan failed his last and most important case…and Rachel had to pay the price.

* * *

**You must keep readin because Jimmy WILL solve this case...if you respond, of course.**


	8. Afterthoughts

**Wow..._the _shortest chapter I've ever written in my life! Only a one-pager! Anyways, I just kinda wrote this to get back into the Case Closed swing-o-things (since I've been working of King of the Koopas for so long. Check it out, it's cool!)**

**Anyways, yeah, alotta you guys beasted at me for driving Conan insane in my last chappie. Well...yeah...sorry to say that things aren't really any better in this one.**

* * *

He escaped. He escaped and was now walking down a crowded street in downtown Tokyo. He was trapped inside a closet in the Men in Black's headquarters. He could've done so much research and clue-searching to finally capture his enemies.

But he didn't. He swore he would never attempt to solve another case as long as he lived.

He now realized what had become of him: he was a failure. He had no point in going on solving anything…or living for that matter. Maybe the men's sickening note was right. Maybe Conan should just kill himself, join Rachel…

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sound of gunshots coming from a jewelry store down the street. Three or four men ran out of the store, black bags in their greedy hands, and jumped into a nearby Jeep, which drove away before the cops could do anything about them.

Conan could. He could've stopped them if he wanted. He didn't. He couldn't. If he couldn't save Rachel, then what could he live up to?

He thought about every single case he had solved in his young life. Each and every dead face, suspected face, accused face…he didn't care about them. They could've all died and gone strait to Hell, for all he cared. But Rachel…the only who he truly loved…cared about…he couldn't solve her case.

What kind of a detective was he?

He continued walking down the darkened street, neon lights illuminating his way. He sighed deeply. He hadn't eaten in two days. Or was it three? He had been locked up in that closet for so long he could hardly notice the passing of time.

He tried to not think about their first meeting…their first date…he simply couldn't. It was far too much for him to bear. He simply kept walking.

He made his way back to the apartment Richard lived. It was his home as well. As well as Rachel's…_was_ Rachel's. He walked in the door using his key, which he always kept in the sole of his Super Shoe, and strode off to bed. Richard was crying at the kitchen table, not even recognizing Conan's reappearance. Conan didn't mind. He didn't want to say anything to Richard anyway.

He simply wanted to sleep, wake up the next morning, and have it all be a nightmare…too bad life just doesn't work out the way we hope.

* * *

**Emo LemonyShepard! Yes, I'll try to update ASAP, cause this chappie was _really_ depressing. **


	9. Nothing a little Beer can't cure

**A li'l longer of a chapter, in which alcohol is consumed and a secret is revealed.**

**Won-Won Wierdo: Yes! Yes! I heard you! So here's the next chappie, just for you (well not really)**

**Elwyndra: AHHH rubs neck Well...I guess I shouldn't keep _you _waiting anymore, should I? **

**susie202: Well, then, let me just say that many tears will be shed on this fine night.**

* * *

e spent the next week sitting around his house, watching nothing but cartoons and cheesy action movies, like most young teenagers did. He couldn't bear to watch the news. It reminded him of his past…his past wasted on hopeless dreams. He hid all of his Sherlock Holmes, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys…those dreadful things were the cause of his career decision. Now, he finally had time to concentrate on his schoolwork.

He tried to block out any and all thoughts of…Now what was her name again?

_'Good,'_ he thought. _'I can't even recall her name anymore.'_ Anymore…Moore…Rachel Moore…AHHH! He wished so much to just disappear from the face of the planet, to be in eternal nothingness forevermore. Moore…

During gym and lunch periods he ignored all of his friends, who have been calling him constantly, wondering what was wrong. How could he tell them that he was really Jimmy Kudo, ace detective, who vanished mysteriously years ago? Answer: he couldn't. So he wouldn't.

He wasn't Jimmy anymore anyways. He had given that up. Now he was forever Conan Edigowa, the alias he made up many years ago…looking back at it, he wished he made his name a little cooler, but how was he supposed to know that he would be naming himself?

One night, he was in the kitchen concentrating on his advanced algebra, which he already knew like the back of his hand, when Richard walked in. He sighed, sat down, grabbed a beer, and began reading the paper. Conan never looked up in fear of catching a glimpse at a headline. He couldn't stand newspapers.

"It's been how many days, Cohain?" Richard mumbled. Conan sighed. The guy was drunk again. He took his books and homework and walked away from the drunkard.

"Hey, Galahad, wait a sec…!" he cried as he collapsed to the floor. Conan cringed. Ever since the man's daughter was declared dead, he had nothing left to really live for except alcohol. This made the boy think…_Should I resort to such a thing? To avoid thinking of her ever again?_

_Heck, it worked for Richard._

So Conan set down his books and slowly walked over to the cans of brain-sizzling liquids. He gulped, but then set his pride aside, popped a can open, and took a big gulp. His mouth stung and burned for a second or two, but then the boy licked his lips and prepared himself for more. After maybe two minutes, he and Richard were all over the floor, drunk like no other.

"Meeheehee…" Richard sneered. "Cocaine, I…I love you so much!" he reached around to grab the boys neck, but totally missed and knocked over a lamp. Conan giggled as well.

"Oh…it fell down!" Conan laughed as the lamp shattered into pieces. The two males were truly insane, feeling nothing but sure happiness and joy, even if it was all beer-induced.

Richard began grabbing random pictures off his mantle and throwing them into the fireplace. He found one of he and his father, holding up a huge bass they caught at a lake.

"Bye bye, fishie! Muahaha!" he shouted hysterically as he threw the picture into the fireplace. Conan started to do the same thing, tossing in pointless pictures of he and his family doing…whatever. Until he caught a glimpse of a young girl wearing white, a trophy being held in her right arm. She looked so…strangely beautiful and…so _familiar._ Conan's mind slowly came back to its senses as he remembered who this person was.

It was Rachel. Rachel Moore. It was her karate photo. He fell to his knees as Richard stopped engaging in his acts of stupidity. He knelt down next to the boy.

"Conan, what's wrong?"

The boy didn't respond, but instead held the picture close and began to sob. He remembered everything about this girl: her favorite color, her favorite foods, their first date…this just made his cry harder. Richard then hugged the boy close.

"Conan, I know…I know…I miss her, too." He said, tears growing in his eyes. Conan then shouted out, "But you don't understand, Richard! Nobody could possibly understand! It…it's my fault!"

Richard inhaled sharply as Conan began to unravel his story, from the poison to the strange array of clues, to Rachel's death. He told him everything.

"Richard…I'm Jimmy Kudo." He completed his story. Richard's eyes widened to such an extent that Conan feared they were going to pop out of their sockets. He leaned back on the floor, hand clutching his heart, as he tried to piece together the story he had just heard. It was impossible to believe…_could it be that Conan was still drunk?_

Conan lowered his head, lower lip quivering. "And it's my fault that she's gone…my fault! I could've saved her but…I…I…" Richard held him close once again, trying to keep his own tears back, trying to comfort the boy.

"Shh, it's going to be alright," he whispered. "Just…simmer down, Conan…Jimmy Kudo."

* * *

**Was Richard OoC? Very much so! Is anyone else besides me pissed because Case Closed has been canceled by Adult Swim? YOU ALL BETTER BE OR I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND...prolly kick you or somethin.**


	10. More Then One Answer

**Whew! It's been a while, people, but I've finally managed to complete the tenth chapter! Everyone knows that the tenth chapter of every story should be amazing and Earth-shattering, and this one is no exception.**

**Elwyndra: Wow! I'm glad you liked it. Hopefully you'll like this one, too.**

**xeno: I just need to thank you, man. I googled and got a heck of a lotta stuff to tide me over 'til I buy my Case Closed DVDs! It has taken my Case Closed deprivation and turned it back into an obsession. Again, many thanks!**

**susie202: Now...what did you mean b y your last review? I get the sense that you didn't like the chapter? Well...your loss?**

**Trumpet-Geek: Sorry, buddy. I don't know what happened. A lot of my other past stories had huge chappies. For some reason, I guess I never have time to make them as long as they used to. Again, sorry.**

* * *

Rachel's funeral was that day. Conan didn't attend. He was too busy thinking of ways to kill himself. He had seen many creative suicides during his misadventures with the Moore Detective Agency. He also swore that he would never take his life.

He also swore that he and Rachel would marry one day.

All past promises didn't seem to matter then. He was already dead: he just needed to kill himself.

He searched through the entire house. He found the typical suicide weapons: knives, ropes, razors, poisons…no, no, that wouldn't do. He needed something that would make the police scratch their heads in curiosity. Something different. Something sickening.

He thought back to one of the first cases he had as Conan. A man killed himself by placing a knife into a block of ice. He stood up on a chair and jumped backwards, stabbing himself in the back. The ice block melted, and it looked like someone had murdered him.

It wasn't original, but it was perfect.

There were a few problems, though. Richard would be home from the funeral any minute, and there was no ice block that big anywhere in the apartment. Conan's death would have to wait.

Richard slowly walked into the door, eyes red. He didn't have the look of "Look at me! I'm Richard Moore, the world's greatest detective!" on his face. Instead, he had the look of death, sadness, worry, and despair. He threw his coat on the floor and slumped down at the kitchen table.

"How was it?" Conan asked. Richard looked as if he really didn't want to talk about it, but he did anyway, just to start conversation with the boy.

"It was closed casket." He said, throat tight. Conan cringed. Whatever happened to Rachel must've been horrible for them to forbid anyone seeing her face. He began to cry again, but tried to keep the tears back. Richard rubbed his eyes.

"Conan…do you mind if I still call you that? It's just easier."

The boy gave a slight smile and nodded. Richard smiled as well.

"Good. Do you think you can run down to the drug store on the corner and pick us up some food? Normally I would myself, but…"

Richard didn't need to explain. Conan took the old man's wallet and walked out the door. It was nice outside, the gentler breeze blowing against his face. Dark clouds filled the sky, but they showed no sign of rain. It was a wonderful day.

Conan saw all sorts of people running around the street, living their everyday lives to the fullest. This made Conan smile. They were oblivious to Rachel's death, of course, but that was OK to the boy now. The world couldn't stop for all of his needs and demands, this he had learned. Suddenly, all thoughts of taking his own life disappeared.

The drug store was nothing special to look at, but today it was. Everyone looked happy and content. The once run-down-looking building suddenly looked like a mansion. Conan walked down the isles of the food sections and picked out some of his favorite snacks. He paid for his groceries and walked out the door, grabbing a gumball on his way out.

He stepped out onto the cemented sidewalks, plastic bags in hand, starring into the faint, almost invisible sun, hidden behind the clouds. He felt so alive. He wandered back to the apartment and placed the groceries inside…but he felt like walking around some more. So he put his small little windbreaker on and walked around the block.

It started to sprinkle a little bit. Thunder could be heard in the distance, people were running from the streets into their homes, seeking shelter from the suddenly-pouring rain.

Conan didn't go inside. In fact, he took off his glasses and began to run through the rain. It was just as it was so many years ago, when Jimmy Kudo had just shrunk. Back before he, Agasa, or anyone else even knew about Conan Edogowa. Before the horrible name even came into existence.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden pain of hitting someone. It was a girl, wet and tired, maybe even scared. She looked about three years younger than he.

But…wait a minute. Something was out of place.

"I'm very sorry, miss," Conan said, helping the little lady up. "I didn't mean to run into you."

The girl's clothes were soaked, as if she had been dumped into a pool. They were also way too big for her body, as if she were wearing adult clothes. Conan into her eyes, making sure she was OK.

Her eyes looked so…pure. Yet so scared. They were both so beautiful and strangely loving. The girl's eyes narrowed as they met Conan's. At once, she knew who he was.

"C…Conan?"

It was her voice. He knew it. Somehow, they had found each other. Tears built up in his eyes as he spoke the name of his dear lover, though he could hardly believe it was coming out of his mouth.

"Rachel…"

* * *

**There. Now you can't say I didn't give this story a happy chapter.**


	11. To Run or Fight?

**Wow...I can't believe how bad this is getting! I seriously had thoughts of Conan and mini-Rachel running away together to start their lives anew. BUT that's highly anti-climatic and I didn't wanna disappoint you guys. **

**But, seriously, I'm going to end this soon. Maybe 2 chapters left. Sorry, but I'm fed up with this piece!**

* * *

At first he questioned his consciousness, for he awoke in total darkness. He felt so incredibly tired that he couldn't sit up from his bed. He wondered how he had even gotten there. He heard the gentle pitter-patter of rain outside of his window and remembered his walk outside. The drugstore. The groceries. Then, suddenly, he collided with a young girl…

With all his might he sat up in his bed, inhaling quickly. 'Rachel!' he thought, as his heart began to race. _'Where is she? Did I really…I mean, was she really…?'_ He quickly jumped out of bed, fearing the girl had run away or…

Then he stopped. He lowered his head and gave a sad chuckle to himself, tears building in his hopeful eyes again. _'She was a dream.'_ Conan thought to himself. Then he began laughing quietly as he wiped his tears away. _'She was just a dream from a hopeless romantic mind. Nothing more.'_

He sat back down on his bed, crying to himself. He decided to run away. Right there, on the spot. He had no point to live in Tokyo anymore. He thought about running away and working at a farm somewhere. Agasa didn't need to know. Neither did Moore or his parents. He could just disappear, and Jimmy Kudo, along with the godforsaken Conan, would be erased from the world. Forever.

"Why are you crying, Conan?"

He looked up, tears still streaming down his red cheeks. He knew that voice. The voice of innocence and perfection. The voice of the beautiful woman whom we had wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

"R…Rach…?" he stuttered, praying he wasn't wrong. He turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with the young girl he had just met, yet always knew. The girl was now wearing Rachel's bathrobe, still too big on her.

"…Rachel?"

The girl smiled, a hint of worry still covered on her face. Conan walked over to her and just…starred at her. Here was the girl who he had thought died many days ago. The girl who he had searched so hard for. The girl who…was now about nine years old. Her body was no longer developed and her pretty face was no longer beautiful, but instead…_adorable._

"Hello, Conan." She said in a near whisper, her high-pitched voice matching her tiny body. Conan stroked her long, black hair.

"Rachel…" he whispered, still hardly believing that she was standing right there in front of him. Then they kissed.

The scene was quite awkward, a thirteen year old passionately sticking his tongue into an elementary-aged school girl's small mouth. But the scene inside each other was much deeper. Somehow the poor girl had put two and two together and realized that, this whole time, her boyfriend…her love…was with her right under her nose. Literally.

The kiss seemed to last forever, the boy kissing every inch of her body. Even though she was only now nine, Rachel loved every second of it. It didn't matter that they were young on the outside. Inside, they knew who they were, and it simply felt right.

Richard Moore walked inside the room and watched the two young lovers doing one another. He didn't question the fact that one was technically "raping" the other. He didn't question the fact that Conan was now touching his now tiny daughter all over. He was far too drunk to remember his own name. He simply sat down and watched for a while before falling into a deep, drunken sleep.

* * *

After three hours of getting to know each other all over again, Conan and Rachel let go of each other.

"Jimmy…I hardly believe what had happened." She quivered. Conan starred at her, looking deep into her sapphire eyes. "After my date…I went back home…but you and Daddy weren't here. So I waited…when I heard the doorbell ring I thought it was you two…it wasn't. It was two men…dressed in black suits…they gagged me and tied me up. It was…it was horrible. They would…touch me and…rape me. They kept telling me terrible things about how you were dead and…that I would never see you again."

She began sobbing. "They cut off my finger…somehow, it grew back after they forced me to swallow that poison. I thought I was going to die…but I woke up in a dumpster. I got out and…I ran back here."

She gave Conan a huge hug. "And I'm just so happy to know that you're not dead." The boy cheeks hurts from smiling, but he simply couldn't stop.

"Rachel…do you remember where the men's headquarters is?" he asked suddenly. Rachel looked up at him, curiosity in her eyes.

"I…I don't." she finally said quietly, lowering her head in failure. Conan took his index finger and placed it under the girl's chin, lifting her head up.

"Hey," he whispered. "It's OK. We both have each other…the men in black will strike again, probably, but…well, what more can we do?" He hugged her close. "I love you, Rachel, and I will not lose you again."

Rachel pushed herself away from Conan's arms, starring into his eyes again with a look of disbelief. She slowly shook her head as Conan tilted his to the side, wondering why she was acting this way?

"Conan…Jimmy…what happened to you?" she asked. "You never pass up the opportunity to solve a case. Even if it was just a pair of missing keys." She grasped his small hand tightly. "It was your passion."

"But _you _are my life now. You're my passion. I almost lost you because of a stupid case. I don't want to risk that ever again."

Rachel continued to stare into the boy's eyes. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Jimmy…listen to me…you need to stop this._ You are a detective_. You always have been and you always will be. Now, you need to stop worrying about me and solve this case. I mean, look at us!"

She gestured to their shrunken bodies. The bodies that will surely curse them for the rest of their lives. Jimmy thought back to how he felt being stuck in Conan's small body. He hated every second of it. Suicide was even in his mind! He couldn't curse Rachel the same way he cursed himself. He stood up, determination burning in his eyes once again. He reached for Rachel's small hand and pulled her up as well.

"Get dressed." He said coldly. "We're going to try and retrace your steps."

And Rachel smiled.

* * *

**Has anyone ever started a story and then, halfway through, began to _LOATHE_ it? Yeah...my situation right now...**


	12. The Final Clue

**Yep, it's been a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time since I've updated this thing, so I decided one night to do so. I'm planning on starting up a Danny Phantom fic, but figured I should finish one of my other fics before starting another.**

**Now, I'm refering to Jimmy as Conan throughout this chapter and probably the next, too, simply because that's who he is. When Jimmy shrunk, his life changed and he became Conan, so it's kinda symbolic. **

**It's also just easier for the reader, too.**

**This is going by fast because, as most of you know, I'm beginning to not like this story much and wanna finish it soon! So if there's any grammer problems, don't bother telling me, because I prolly don't care! Haha!**

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It was dark, raining, and colder than it should've been. Poor Rachel was shivering, soaked to the bone despite Conan's attempts to shield her from the rain. They had been traveling for hours now, desperately searching the streets of Tokyo for any building that Rachel found familiar.

Thoughts were running through his head. He needed a heading, a final clue to lead him to the men in black. Thoughts flashed back as he played back the clues in his head. He remembered getting shot by a tranquilizer while searching Landol Community College. It was extremely early in the morning, approximately 3:45. He was then dragged into a Rolls Royce and driven…north?

That was all he could remember.

He and Rachel were walking north of the college and searching all of the darkened buildings. He cursed at himself. He was inside the closet of the men's headquarters, escaped, and didn't even pay any attention to the slightest detail. He remembered that he was too depressed to notice where he was. He shut his eyes tightly and thought back.

Where was he?

He remembered a staircase…really dark…and a few stools on the main floor. He remembered wood covering the windows and the door, so the building was obviously closed. He then remembered something else…a neon sign, nearly burnt out. He cursed at himself again. What did that freaking sign say? If he knew that, it would be so much easier to find the headquarters.

"Rachel." Conan asked, making the young girl spin her head around. "Do you remember a neon sign on the building you escaped from?"

The girl thought back, placing her index finger underneath her chin. "Now that you mention it, I do." She stated. "It was green, wasn't it? And…oh, man, what did it say?"

"Yeah, I know how you feel." Conan said, frustrated. "If I could remember what the sign said, I would be able to solve this mystery." He clenched his teeth. "We're so close!"

Rachel rested a hand on his shoulder. "We're not in any hurry, Jimmy." She said. "Take your time."

Conan looked deep into her eyes, fear suddenly building up. "Oh, no…we _are_ in a hurry, Rachel." He said, worried. Rachel tilted her head, confused. Conan grabbed her wrist and began running down the street, starring into each and every closed shop with a green neon light.

"Jimmy, what's wrong?" Rachel cried. Conan kept his eyes on the buildings.

"Rachel, these men in black…they're bound to leave Tokyo soon!" he shouted in between gasps. "They've already given two people this poison, at least!" He finally stopped running, a slight grin on his face.

"Our job is to catch them before they go."

Rachel, breathing in heavily due to their amount of running, suddenly looked up at what Conan was starring at. It was a bar, closed and boarded up, with a green neon light hanging from it. Rachel smiled as well.

"Shimatari Bar…" she said. "This is it."

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Kicking the wood-covered doors wide open with his super-shoes, Conan carefully stepped over some debris and glass, grabbing Rachel's hand and helping her step over the fallen wood. He removed his fake glasses and threw them at the ground, no longer needing to keep his identity secret. He rubbed his tired eyes, blinked over and over, and rubbed them some more.

He approached a table or two, inspecting them closely. The starred at the bar stools, wiping the dust from them with his finger and inspecting even that. Something on the ground then caught his eye, which flashed with victory as a wide smile grew on his face.

"What?" Rachel asked, concern in her voice. Conan looked back at her, grinning.

"This is definitely the place." He stated as he pointed towards the dusty ground. There, still in the dust, were his footprints from when he had escaped last. They were very small, matching up with his shoe size perfectly, and looked as though they were dragged. Conan remembered why they had been dragged, too: would you have the energy to walk properly after you had stayed up all night, poisoned, and then realized your one true love was dead?

Conan walked up to Rachel and held her little hand in his tightly. His eyes narrowed and darted around the dark and large room…now that he knew the men in black were there, he got extremely cautious and wary of his surroundings. There was still much to fear and the case, as Conan was concerned, was still far from over. He still needed to get those two behind bars.

Until then, he would not sleep.

"C'mon," he whispered to Rachel as he slowly began walking deeper and deeper into the abandoned bar. He wanted to simply run into the back, burst open the door, and shout "PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!!" He wanted to catch these guys so bad.

_'Aw, shit,'_ he thought to himself. _'There was no Rolls Royce outside of this building…if they'd left already, I would never-'_

Suddenly, a light and happy song split the silence like a bullet, making both of the cursed teenagers jump nearly out of their skins. Conan slapped a hand over Rachel's mouth, shielding the yelp that was sure to burst from her mouth. Conan's eyes darted around the room again, his ears listening keenly. The song wasn't very loud, but it did seem close by…

His eyes widened. It sounded exactly like the cell phone that was in the girl's pocket when he found her at the demolition site! He reached into Rachel's large pockets, removing a small, silver cell phone, completely identical to the phone he saw before. He was about to press the "talk" button and scream "Hello??" into the receiver_…'But it was in Rachel's pocket for a reason.'_ Conan thought.

He leaned into Rachel and whispered to her, "I want you to answer this, alright?"

Her eyes grew wide. "Me?" she asked. "But why?"

"Just trust me." He replied as he pressed the "talk" button. Rachel slowly grabbed the cell phone and, for a while, said nothing. After what seemed like an eternity, she quietly said, "Hello…?"

"Hey, bitch, where you at?" he voice on the other line screamed. "Believe it or not, we still need you to find Kudo again, alright? So I want you to meet us at…" There was a pause. "…at 17th and Rose, got it? And if you don't, we'll find you and kill you instead."

There was a moment of dark chuckles, and then, "And you know we will."

Then the dial-tone.

All the color in Rachel's face disappeared as she felt shivers run up her spine. Water appeared in her fearful eyes as she grasped Conan's hand even tighter. The boy, on the other hand, was ecstatic on the inside. He faced her, smiling.

"Rachel, we've done it." He said. "We've finally got those bastards where we want them! Now, I want you to call your dad and tell him to get the Inspector. I'm going to.."

"Oh, no you won't, detective…"

Conan and Rachel spun around, their hearts pounding at the sound of the voice. Small whimpers emerged from Rachel's mouth as a tall, dark figure slowly walked out from the shadows of the abandoned building. His jet black fedora and dark brown trench coat made up this horrible man, who seemed like a giant compared to the two "children," who backed away from him cautiously.

All Conan needed to see was his eyes, the eyes he hadn't seen for years now, those horrible eyes he had last seen right before he blacked out. Became Conan. The night Jimmy Kudo died.

Now, there he was, one of the men in black, towering over him, revolver in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other.

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**Short, sweet, and a cliffie. Those are my personal favorites!**


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